


The Meaning of Equality

by Machillusion



Category: Elfen Lied, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bullying, Crossover, Dark Hero, Dark! Izuku, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Requited Love, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Gore, Heavily OOC, Internal Conflict, Jaded Outlook of Heroes, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Rape/Non-con Elements, Relationship Issues, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machillusion/pseuds/Machillusion
Summary: Izuku condemned every day that he was living because he was Quirkless. Katsuki didn’t make it any better, either. And until that day that he witnessed a brave civilian attempt to prevent what could have been a very ugly situation, he thought that Quirkless people could never become heroes.Well, he was wrong. Quirkless people could become heroes just as much as Heroes themselves were, and as a person who was both Quirkless yet had a quirk, he was qualified just as much as anyone else to obtain his longtime dream. But he wasn’t willing to become a Hero anymore.Unfortunately, he wouldn’t have much of a choice in the matter, as he was caught right in the crossfire of Heroes and the League of Villains and would have to make a choice as to which he would—or should—become.On temporary hiatus, sorry





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, just a quick shout-out here. The name’s Machillusion and I’m mainly a KHR writer. This is my first (and most likely last) work for BnHA. I really like this anime (since I’m too much of a chicken to read the manga and be spoiled) and I wanted to create a fanfiction of my own of it after seeing a few of the ones here. Although I have a general idea of where I want to go with this story, I need your help. There is three possible pairings that can happen. All interactions between characters will stay the same, but the main pairing (and the ending/tags) will change. 
> 
> The first is Todoroki/Izuku (the most supportive and trusting of the three relationships), Himeko/Izuku (the most devoted but possibly most dysfunctional relationship of all three), and Katsuki/Izuku (the most volatile relationship, but also the most slow burn and potentially the sweetest of the three). I have no bias as I like all four characters, so whichever majority rules is what I’ll go with. The duration of this poll is about three weeks, ending on September 10.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_From his birth, Izuku Midoriya wasn’t normal._

_A few days after delivery, the doctors performed a regular check-up on Izuku. From the womb, the doctors realized that there was a slight abnormality within him. It nearly brought his mother to tears, but they reassured her that he would still be born, and that it would not affect his chance of survival. They noted that his pineal gland was larger than most babies, with the shape appearing more like an egg than a pea like it was supposed to be. It initially rose alarm, but after they did a thorough check up, they told her that he was healthy, but still needed to visit the neurologist and the pediatrician every so often to monitor his health._

_Izuku was a quiet baby. He didn’t cry unless he soiled his diaper, and he didn’t play with anything unless his mother specifically gave him a toy to use. He always just stared at his mother, and then at the middle aged women his mother boasted him to, and then eventually at his father, who came once to his baby shower and not a day after. He took everything in without a word, and then he always looked back at his mother, who smiled at him with adoration and love in her eyes._

_When he was in kindergarten, he met Katsuki. Katsuki was the loud one in the classroom, always attracting attention to himself, and his classmates loved that. They surrounded themselves around him, wanting to be in the spotlight, just like he was. Izuku was one of those students. He admired Katsuki from afar, and when they were in their first year of elementary school, Izuku approached him with the intentions of being his friend._

_But when Katsuki’s quirk manifested a year later, all of Izuku’s hopes of being his true friend collapsed—and his self-esteem with it._

* * *

 

Izuku burst through the door, his hand clenching and unclenching the strips of his schoolbag that were strapped firmly around his shoulders. He was breathless, ignoring the smell of the pork cutlet that his mother made, instead throwing off his shoes into a corner haphazardly and running into the kitchen.

“Mom! Guess what happened at school today!” His mother turned back towards him, turning on the kitchen faucet with one hand and absentmindedly running her fingers through the water. She turned off the faucet and then wiped her hands on her hand towel.

“I’m not sure, but you’re dying to tell me, right? What happened at school today?” Izuku plopped on a beige couch, the nearest chair to the entrance of the kitchen, and began telling her what happened.

“So you remember Kacchan, right? How he has a quirk and stuff? Well, it turns out that this other girl in my class, Torie-chan, has a quirk, too! Actually, a lot of people in my class have quirks, isn’t that so cool? I can’t wait to see what quirk I have. Mom, can we go to the doctor today please? Pretty please? I’ll clean up my room and do my homework.”

Inko laughed at her son’s enthusiasm, but she felt an inkling of discomfort wrap around her mind. She wondered if Izuku even _had_ a quirk. It was so late to manifest; he was already nine and there were no signs of his quirk, and even if he did have a quirk, would it be enough to become a hero like the All Might that her son idolized? She wasn’t so sure. But how could she tell her son that? He was looking so much brighter these days. Ever since Katsuki became her son’s friend, he looked a little down. No, ‘down’ wasn’t even the word to describe how depressed and lopsided Izuku appeared at times. She didn’t know if it was because of him—after all, Izuku only spoke the praises of Zion about that boy—but she knew that her baby wasn’t like that before. So to see that he was cheerful and bubbly again…she couldn’t ruin that.

“Yes, yes, of course we can,” Inko assured, smiling. “But you better make sure that homework gets done and that room gets clean. I want it spotless, you hear? Not a dirty sock on the floor or old pizza crust in the bed. I’m going to be checking it before we step foot anywhere.”

He shrieked in delight and ran into his room. She chuckled as she followed him, watching as he sat in front of the computer for what seems like the thousandth time, turned on his monitor, and pushed in a worn down CD that was, despite its age, in very good shape. And then she watched as he all but obsessed over the overly muscular man as he saved hundreds of people. One after the other after the other…it was no wonder he was the Symbol of Peace. But many couldn’t be like him, and even being a hero was a daunting task, only really given to those who had the potential to do it. Inko wasn’t sure if he could do it, and she didn’t want her son to be hurt if things didn’t work out. But she didn’t have the heart to tell him that.

“After you’re done watching that, you had better hurry up and clean your room, Izuku, or I might change my mind,” she said teasingly. She wanted to laugh when she saw his frantic face, desperate to keep watching but wanting to go to the doctor. He resorted to multitasking, cleaning up his room all while keeping his eyes on the screen. How he did that, she wasn’t sure. But it was very entertaining to watch, at the very least.

After he cleaned his room and finished his homework in almost record time, the two of them set off to the neurologist for their monthly check-up, and then the pediatrician. The neurologist, a dark-skinned woman with a puff of caramel-tinted hair and plastic sapphire glasses, smiled jovially as Izuku bounced into her office. As she gave him his monthly exam, Izuku prattled off all of the quirks of his classmates to the neurologist, going as far as to hypothesize what their possible weaknesses could be. After she finished, he gave her a hug like he always did when he had an appointment—he did know her most of his life, so she was a few stones away from family—and then excitedly yelled for his mom to “hurry up, or the doctor’s office is going to close.”

“Your son is so unbelievably intelligent for his age,” she told Inko as she was leaving her office. “If he doesn’t become a hero, how about he goes into medicine? Although to be quite honest, I believe that he could go into anything his heart desires, and he would do exceptionally well.”

“Oh, Izuku has his heart set in stone about this, doctor,” she laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how many times Izuku has watched one video of the same hero in a day, much less all of the other heroes. Though I do agree, my Izuku can do anything he puts his mind to.”

But at the pediatrician’s office, her words came to bite her where it hurts the most.

“You’re Quirkless,” the old man said. He didn’t mince words, didn’t sugar coat it; he just said it as it was. And it broke Izuku in two.

“W-what?” His All Might doll landed on the floor with a dull thud, and his heart dropped into his chest. He never thought that he would be Quirkless. Actually, he thought that it would just appear one day, like how Katsuki’s did four years ago in his kindergarten class. After all, almost all of the kids his age had a quirk. Who ever heard of someone not having a Quirk? And even if it happened to someone, why did it have to be him?

“Maybe there’s a mistake,” Inko rushed to defend. “Maybe there was an error in the machine or something.”

“Nope, afraid it doesn’t work that way,” the pediatrician retorted. He got up from his red cushioned pedestal and pointed to the skeletal structure that was enlarged on the wall. It was the skeletal structure of Izuku, for the three of them to see clearly. “You see his pinky? Most people who have quirks don’t have a second joint. This is the biggest indication that your son is Quirkless.”

It was that day that Izuku’s heart shattered in two. After all, if a doctor said that he couldn’t be a hero, then that means it truly was impossible to be a hero. He could never be as cool as Katsuki, or dream to be as cool as his idol All Might.

* * *

 

It was mandatory that his status as a Quirk or Quirkless be verified as soon as it’s tested for as directed by the Board of Education. Within hours, the entire school knew that Izuku Midoriya was a Quirkless human. The next day that he set foot into his elementary school, he could hear murmurs around him. After all, it was unheard of for someone to be Quirkless. It wasn’t impossible, but extremely rare. Surprisingly enough, no one really approached him. Perhaps it was because they were afraid that being Quirkless was contagious, or perhaps it was because they didn’t want to associate themselves with him. But they all left him alone, and day after day, Izuku lived his life in isolation, no one even inviting him to sit with them at lunch or partnering up with him during gym.

That is, until Katsuki found him.

“Hey Deku.” Izuku glanced up at his friend. It was so long since Katsuki came to Izuku of his own volition. Usually, Izuku was the one who hunted Katsuki down, finding him in the park or by the arcade center with two or three other people that he couldn’t be bothered to remember their name. So to see Katsuki meet him after school made Izuku really overjoyed. He snapped his backpack shut and faced his best friend completely.

“Hi Kacchan! I’m so glad to see you.” He smiled brightly, and Katsuki smirked in return. Had he been a few years older, or perhaps a bit wiser, he would have realized that Katsuki’s expression wasn’t amiable in the slightest, but presented a twisted sort of pleasure. It was the kind of expression that Katsuki had when he kicked injured puppies—the spotted ones were always his favorite—or when he bullied Izuku, which was, at this point, his favorite pastime. After that day three years ago that Katsuki fell in the river and Izuku helped him up, Katsuki made sure that if Izuku was near him, he would make his life a living hell. He kicked him when he was down, and when Izuku complained, he littered his back with burns. It was such a satisfying feeling, conquering something that was so obviously beneath him—even if that something dared to patronize him, and that _is_ what Izuku did after all, right?—that he did it all the time, just because he could, just because he knew Izuku could never and would never fight back.

“I heard that you don’t have a quirk,” Katsuki casually stated as Izuku got up from his seat and approached him, although he froze at hearing that. He watched as Izuku’s face became distorted with sorrow, and then embarrassment, and finally settled on horror. He could already feel his fingers tingling in the beating he’s going to give to Izuku. After all, he had to do _some_ sort of encouraging to assure that Izuku would stay in the shadows and away from him. In a few years, he was going to go to UA High, and he didn’t need this dead weight clinging onto him. After three years of harassment, he figured that Izuku would have gotten the hint that he wasn’t good enough to be at Katsuki’s side, but he still skipped along cheerfully next to him, as if he _deserved_ to be there. Even after he beat him. Even after he told him what a useless being he was. Even after he isolated him.

“You know you can’t be a hero now, right?”

“You never know, it might be still possible,” Izuku mumbled nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s too early to give up—”

But that wasn’t Katsuki wanted to hear. He wanted him to confess that he was useless now, that he couldn’t possibly be a hero, but instead, Izuku was still trying to cling to those few strings of hope. He all but stalked up to Izuku, throwing down his backpack and roughly pushing Izuku into the desks behind him. Izuku stumbled for a few seconds before knocking into the edge of the desk and smothered a yelp. He hissed, trying to soothe his spine, but he didn’t have enough time to. Katsuki was right above him, and his eyes betrayed nothing but hatred.

“I thought I told you that you couldn’t become a hero,” he growled. He pulled Izuku by his collar and shook him a bit, bringing his face close to his. “You’re a worthless piece of shit, Deku. Get that through your fucking skull.” He started to heat up his fists just so, ready to leave a gallery of bruises on his back and stomach. “If you can’t get that through your head, then it looks like I’m going to have to do it for you.” At once, Izuku started to struggle, the horror increasing at an alarming rate. Katsuki wondered if he was going to have a panic attack like the last time. It was strangely satiating to see Izuku gasping for breath, his eyes unfocused, clawing at a relief that didn’t come. He had watched as Izuku convulsed under him, grabbing at his throat and then at his head, tears streaming down his face and snot running down his nose. It was so satisfying.

Maybe he could have it happen again.

Izuku started to move away, his hands held protectively in front of his face. His eyes were wide with fear, and his breath started to cut off irregularly. “No—wait—”

“Since when do you get time, you piece of shit? Fuck, since when do you even _matter_? You don’t matter, not now, not ever, and the sooner you getting that through your thick skull is the sooner things’ll be better for your sorry ass. Especially since you don’t have a quirk. How can you even live with yourself knowing that you’re a freak? You freak, you don’t even deserve to live. You don’t even deserve to be punched by me. Hell, why were you even here? Were you waiting for me like some lost puppy? Waiting for me to punch you like the piece of shit you are?”

At this, Izuku couldn’t say anything. He was frozen into silence. Because he actually _had_ wanted to see Katsuki, with the hopes that maybe he would keep him company. Maybe Katsuki would be cruel like he always was, but at least he would pay attention to him. He figured that since Katsuki knew he was definitely inferior, he would treat him nicer. He would never be a rival to him; he would never get in his way. But instead, it seemed to be the opposite. Because he didn’t have a quirk, Katsuki didn’t think him worthy to even be with. Because he wasn’t a challenge, Katsuki would never acknowledge him as a human being.

Izuku wondered why he spent all these years trying to befriend someone that would never like him back.

“Judging by your reaction, it looks like I was right on the money, you damn masochist. Fine then, I’ll give you just what you deserve.”

Terrified, Izuku began to crawl away. If he could only get on his feet, then he could grab his backpack and run out of the door and back home. There was no one around; he spent a few hours after school to study a bit for the test tomorrow. He knew that if he were to go home around the same time as he usually did, he would run into a villain and a hero somewhere, and the hatred that he felt would start building up. And then when he got home, he would feel the temptation to torture himself with the video of All Might that he kept safe in his desk. So he stayed behind a bit and studied here. But now that it was just him and Katsuki, should Izuku try to call for help, no one would be there to help him. The only choice he had was to run as fast as he possibly could and hope that Katsuki wouldn’t catch up with him. It was a foolish thought, but it was what his brain was clinging onto, as there was no other option.

“I don’t think so, Deku. You wanted a fucking beating, I’ll give you one.” He grabbed Izuku’s wrists with one hand and held it at the edge of the desk that his back was against, and while Izuku was under him, he landed a solid punch against his solar plexus. He watched in pure glee as the child coughed, attempting to bring air into his lungs. But for some reason, he couldn’t, and instead he heaved over and over again. Tears spilled out of his eyes, and he struggled harder in Katsuki’s grasp. But Katsuki would have none of it. He gripped Izuku’s hands harder, firmer, to the point that bruise marks began to form from the heat and the pressure that Katsuki was applying to it. He adjusted to the left slightly, and watching as Izuku lost balance, he slammed his body to the floor, hearing his head fall to the marble flooring with a thud. Pain flashed brightly in Izuku’s eyes, but knowing that Katsuki liked it when he cried in agony, he bit his lower lip. He took the rest of his beatings with grace, but a sense of panic began to rose when he felt something wet run down his head. He wondered if he was bleeding, and if he was, then there was a chance he had a concussion. He was worried that he would have to go to the hospital, and how worried his mother would be if she knew…

His breathing became a dry hiccup, and he struggled harder, his body shaking every so often, and hysteria finally hit him. Katsuki only laughed before he released him, watching with a sick sense of arousal as Izuku lost himself to anxiety and fear. He let go and watched as Izuku clutched at his throat and then at his head, and then simply _felt_ when his hips jutted upwards from the force of his movement. To Katsuki, watching Izuku during a panic attack was similar to watching a bird die; it had a sense of delicacy and morbidity that made it all the more amusing to watch. And feeling his body hit against his like that made him want to…

So he decided he would. Just for a bit. To see what would happen. He moved his hips along with Izuku’s, and he felt even better than he normally did when he beat him up. He did it harder and faster, all while smacking Izuku’s face, watching as blood dripped from his nose and seeped from his lip. And after blatantly unzipping his pants and rubbing his semen right on his uniform and smearing what little dribbled from his dick onto Izuku’s lips, he gave Izuku a hard punch right in the stomach, which rendered him unconscious. Laughing loudly, he zipped himself right back up and took his backpack and left the door.

When Izuku woke up, all he could feel was hatred. Not hatred at Katsuki, but hatred at himself for being so damn weak, for being a Quirkless. If he had a quirk, then Katsuki wouldn’t have did that to him. If he had a quirk, then he would fit in more.

If he had a quirk, he could have been a hero.

* * *

 

The night that he returned home, his mother was so concerned about him. He had never come in so late, and she wondered if that had to do with his results as a Quirkless human. Technically, she was right, but really it was because of Katsuki. Katsuki, the boy that he thought as his best friend, even when he outright bullied him. Katsuki, the person that he stayed with, no matter what happened. But that night, Katsuki had did something that Izuku had never expected, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about him. He didn’t think of him as his best friend but he didn’t hate him either. He felt violated, but not angered. After all, Katsuki wasn’t exactly wrong when he said that Izuku couldn’t become a hero, and he wasn’t wrong when he said that he was inferior to him. But what Izuku wanted to hear was that he still could become a hero, despite everything. If he just worked at it, then he could help people’s lives, just like All Might did. But he supposed that he was a fool to expect that from someone who did nothing but abuse him for the three years they had been friends. No, he wasn’t foolish. He was simply blinded. Katsuki opened his eyes that day.

He had assured his mother that an accident happened on the route he usually took back home, and that he wouldn’t be late again. Inko obviously didn’t believe him, if her disapproving frown was anything to go by, but she didn’t question him about it. He supposed that she believed that he would tell her when he was good and ready.

After that day, for five months, he tried his best to avoid Katsuki at all costs, but he always found him. Whether it be after school, before school, or during breaks, Katsuki would beat the crap out of him. It came to a point where he begged Katsuki to leave him alone, swearing that he would do almost anything just as long as he could just _stop beating him up_. But Katsuki never listened, telling him that he “fucking deserved this” and that the “only way to escape this is to die.” It had escalated to the point that when a transfer student registered into their elementary school and befriended Izuku, Katsuki bullied her _just_ because she was Izuku’s friend. To make matters worse, Katsuki got a bunch of students from other classes to join him. The fact that an innocent person had to suffer because of him really hurt, and he began to willingly isolate himself from everyone.

On the sixth month, he feigned sickness. At six in the morning, an hour before school, Izuku heated up a washcloth and placed it over his forehead, cheeks, and his neck. It was set to almost boiling temperature, but he felt that the pain from the boiling water would be much less painless than what Katsuki would do to him.

His mother came in at exactly 6:45 in the morning, ready to wake her son from school. But when she heard how much he was coughing, she laid a hand on his forehead, just like he thought she would.

“Oh, I knew you were pushing yourself too much,” she mumbled as she quickly checked the rest of his body, which was hot and sweltering because of the layers of blankets he had. He shifted in bed, pretending to cough one more time, before giving her an apologetic glance.

“I’m really sorry mom. Can I stay home today?”

Her answer was almost immediate. “Of course you can, Izuku. I’ll make you rice porridge in a bit, so try to relax, okay?”

He had managed to repeat this for three days, but on the third day, when his mother suggested that they go to the hospital to get him checked out—she always was worried about his health ever since birth—he knew that he couldn’t keep this façade on any longer. He told her that he just needed a bit more rest, and the day after, he returned to school, where Katsuki made up for all of the lost time he couldn’t harass him. In a matter of days, Izuku felt a wave something—hopelessness, maybe—descend on him. Every day he walked into school, he became more and more meek, and his reason for even attending school started to thin out. He couldn’t think about becoming _anything_ while Katsuki bullied him like this.

The next year, Izuku resolved to attract as little attention to himself as humanly possible. He sat in the very back of the class, and when school was in session, he always stayed in the classroom, so as long as people were around. He limited the amount of times that he went to the bathroom, and changing in the locker room was, in his book, prohibited. Of course, his physical fitness grade suffered because of this, but he figured that _it was worth it_ so as long as he could be safe for just two more years.

But he wasn’t safe. Katsuki happened to catch on—how he did it, Izuku still doesn’t know—and harassed him every day. Finally, within two months of his last year of elementary school, he asked his mother to be home schooled.

“Is there a reason for this? You never seemed to be interested in home school before. Actually, when _I_ asked _you_ if you wanted to do home schooling, you adamantly refused because you wanted to stay with your friends. Did something happen? Do you need me to talk to the school?”

“No, no, mom, it’s completely fine,” he rushed to dissuade her. He could imagine the beatings he would get if Katsuki got wind of the fact that he told his mother. He could imagine his angry face right in front of him, shooting saliva from his lips and curses from his tongue. And then he would threaten Izuku to meet him after school, where he would beat the ever loving shit out of him. If he were lucky, he would get out with just that, but if not, he would torture him until Izuku literally pissed himself in fear.

“I just think it’ll help my grades.” Not that his grades were bad, but he didn’t have another excuse to give her. Besides a freer schedule, there was no benefit to home schooling. All of the human interactions were gone. All of the field trips and bonding times that he had gotten in his school were non-existent in home schooling. When would he have a chance to visit the Shizuokasengen shrine with classmates? Heck, what classmates would he even go with?

For a while, she didn’t say anything. But after a while, she acquiesced and allowed him to start partaking in homeschooling. Her only condition was that he would attend cram school in the afternoons, as she wanted to assure that although he may not grow to be a hero, he could be whatever he wanted to be, and that his grades wouldn’t stop him. And for a while, it worked. Izuku studied tirelessly from morning to afternoon, only stopping to take a quick bathroom break or getting a bite to eat (upon her mother’s incessant nagging) during the afternoon. Days went by, and then months, and then a half a year went by, and he was completely fine.

Until he had to go out for cram school.

Everywhere around him were reminders—painful ones at that—that he couldn’t become a hero. When he traveled there in the afternoon, there was always some villain doing something for their five seconds of fame before they were caught by the heroes first, and then the police. Whenever he made it to his cram school, his classmates would talk almost obsessively about what hero was their favorite and how cool his or her quirk was, and he was absolutely sick of it. He wanted to lock himself away in the house, hide himself away from the world and their stupid heroes, and live a life of ignorance and solitude. Of course, his mother would never allow that to happen, but that’s what he wanted. He unconsciously started to tune back into the news, listening for what hero was doing what good deed for the world, and then he gave up listening passively and started to restart his obsession with his idol. All Might.

And it hurt each time he looked at his idol, the man he wanted to become for years, but he did it anyways because of habit. His depression increased, and he tried—futilely—to tune out the news again, but he was so used to tuning in that he did it without even thinking twice about it. The worst part was when he took the routes that he _knew_ a hero was going to patrol on, met them, and felt the wave of hatred after he saw them. He was torturing himself, and he didn’t know how to stop it. But perhaps the worst day was at the last day of his first year of junior high school.

He was still in home schooling, and it had gotten to the point that although he was still technically in 7th grade, he was three years ahead in course material. He had studied throughout his vacations, studied throughout the weekends, and completely immersed himself in schoolwork, trying desperately to forget about quirks and heroes and Katsuki and _All Might_ , and how completely empty and useless he felt when he wasn’t studying. But it seemed as if Life would forever hold it over his head that he was Quirkless, because on that day, he had met All Might face to face.

Izuku was walking home from cram school, and after effectively receiving a perfect grade point average from his cram school*, he was in a moderately good mood. Sure, he didn’t really have any friends to share grades with, but he didn’t need to. His mother would be waiting home with a pot of nabe udon and her extremely rich strawberry banana smoothie that she made on special occasions. She would be so proud of him, so, so proud...

He turned the corner of his cram school onto the general street, and his eyes immediately spotted a robbery. He could see the police officers were trying to apprehend the villain, but failing miserably. People were watching in awe, some in worry, as police officers became injured, one by one. Someone near him asked when a hero was going to come, and Izuku, although irritated that he was thinking about heroes yet again, agreed with him. If someone didn’t help them out soon, then not only would the money from that bank get stolen, but the police officers, who were risking their lives to stop the villains long enough for a hero to help out, would become even more critically injured. He prayed that someone would help them to avoid any more injuries.

Help came in the form of All Might.

He managed to subdue the villain in what felt like seconds, and Izuku felt his obsession and admiration for All Might swell even further. At the same time, he felt his hatred increase even more. Why couldn’t he have a quirk like All Might? Hell, why couldn’t he just have a quirk? Why did he have to be so incredibly useless?

Izuku snapped out of his self-depreciating thoughts when he heard the cheers and roars around him. People flocked to All Might like flies, and he found himself slowly walking over as well. They congratulated All Might, telling him how awesome he was and “can I have an autograph please?” Overwhelmed by the mass of people, All Might quickly excused himself, but Izuku followed after him. He didn’t know why his legs moved in the direction they did, why he felt like he just had to talk to him, but he ran, his eyes following his muscular form until he found him in an empty backstreet, with one hand on his chest. Izuku was hesitant to say something, but after coming all this way, he couldn’t just leave without a word.

“…um. All Might! C-can you just give me a moment of your time?” Surprised to hear that someone was behind him, he swiveled around. He smiled when he stared down at Izuku, but Izuku felt nervous. After all, he was in the presence of his idol, the man that he had adored for years, the man that was all over his room and always appearing on his computer.

“Yes, young man? What is it you need? Ah, is it an autograph? Just give me a pen and—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Izuku interrupted, although he was tempted to get an autograph. But if he did, then he would fawn over it and then his idol would get away and he could never ask his question. Should he even ask? What if he told him…what if he told him that he couldn’t become a hero as well? No, his idol would never do that. He would encourage him, tell him that there’s still a way. Right? At least, Izuku thought he would. After all, All Might was the nicest man—and the most just—out of all the heroes he knew. He saved people’s lives, and whenever someone was depressed, he always comforted him. He couldn’t even count how many charity events All Might has been to, and how many children he cheered up.

“What…what do you think about someone who doesn’t have a quirk? D-do you think that they can become a Hero, too?” For a moment, All Might just stared at him, and Izuku began to fidget. He didn’t mention that person as himself, so he couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“…I don’t like to lie to people, so I’ll tell you the truth.” Already, Izuku could feel a lump slowly forming in his throat. He swallowed, willing himself to listen. Perhaps he wasn’t going to say what he thought he was going to say. Perhaps he was just going to tell him that—

“No, Quirkless humans can’t be Heroes. For people with quirks, they are already risking their lives, trying desperately to defeat villains and make a difference. People with quirks even die occasionally to fight for humanity, for justice. If people with quirks suffer casualties and injuries, then people without quirks would suffer so much more. You understand, don’t you, young man?”

He nodded, not really hearing anything else except for his first sentence. Even though All Might touched his shoulder in what seemed like a comforting touch, all he could hear were the words that everyone had always told him. “You can’t do it.” “Quirkless humans can’t be Heroes.” “You’re Quirkless.” “You’re inferior, useless.”

He stumbled back home, not really hearing anything. His mother may have talked to him, she may have not. Izuku couldn’t really hear anything anymore. If All Might considered him useless, then what reason did he have to live? What reason did he have to exist? He didn’t know anymore.

He locked himself in his room for eight days without eating or sleeping, thinking about how meaningless his life was.

* * *

 

After what seemed like the fiftieth knock on the door, after the eighth day, Izuku opened his door. His mother was waiting there patiently with a plate of food in her hands and a bottle of water tucked under her arm. Her face had tears-stains on it, but her mouth was turned upward and her eyes were shining. She looked so relieved that her son was finally out of his room that it broke Izuku’s heart, just a bit. Well, it broke of what was left of it, anyhow. He had originally locked himself in his room because of what All Might told him, but when he heard his mother’s incessant knocking, he resolved to stay in there so he wouldn’t lash out at her. It wasn’t her or her husband’s fault that Izuku was Quirkless. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault but his own. And if he had left his room without calming down, he would have said something that he would have regretted. His mother treated him so nicely. She always catered to him, and on her days off from work, she would cook his favorite dishes and sometimes even take him out to elaborate restaurants. And no matter what, no matter how expensive it was or how much her job gave her a pay cut, on his birthday, she would always take him out to an expensive sushi restaurant, because he displayed an affinity for it. It wasn’t his favorite like his pork cutlet, but it was a forerunner. How could he ever dislike—forget hate—her?

“I’m really sorry I stayed in my room all this time mom,” Izuku apologized. “All Might...I met him, and I asked him if I could become a hero. And he said I couldn’t, because I was Quirkless. It hurt, you know? To be told that. But everyone was right, mom. I can’t be a hero.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s fine. I’m just so glad to see you’re alright. And…you know…you might not be able to be a hero, but you can be anything else that you want to be. You’re smart, kind, and you’re good at anything you put your hands to do. All is not lost, you know that, right?”

He didn’t say anything, but he smiled. He closed his bedroom door and ushered his mother—still holding his food—into the dining room. She put his food down, and then walked around to the opposite side and began eating. It was a while before either of them talked, but eventually Izuku got around to telling her about his perfect score in his cram school. She grinned and, while still chewing, placed her hand over his across the table and gave a comforting squeeze.

After they were done eating, his mother told him, “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m right here, okay?”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks mom.”

But he couldn’t talk to her, and he knew it. For one thing, he didn’t want to bog her down with his self-depreciating thoughts. He saw how she started to look recently: her hair was wilted, she had dark rings under her eyes, and she began to gain weight. And he knew that he was probably the cause of it all. If he wasn’t the cause, then he was probably a big contributor. She already had stress on her job, and he probably made it that much worse. And for another thing, she had a quirk. And he didn’t. He didn’t want to sound petty or rude or ungrateful, but she could never understand how he feels. As someone who was bullied all of his life because of the way he was born, she could never understand, being picked on simply because he wasn’t what people called ‘normal’, or ‘acceptable’.

Instead, he tried to bottle it all up. It was one of these nights that he tried to bottle it up that he wondered how it would feel if he could become just a little less Quirkless, if perhaps the problem was his blood.

He got up from his bed and wandered into the kitchen. Choosing a knife from the cabinet that was small and unused, he brought it back with him into his room. It started off small, just a little prick of the tip of his index finger. He waited as the blood lazily oozed out, and when he didn’t feel any different, he tried again, a bit wider. He felt the sting of pain, similar to as if a bee stung him right along his hand, but otherwise, he felt no less Quirkless. But it felt so good to cut himself. A small part of his mind reminded him that this wasn’t healthy, that he should _probably tell his mother about this_ , but after reminding himself that his mother would never understand anyhow, he continued to cut himself all over his arms.

The next day and the day after, no one in his summer cram school really noticed the difference in his change of clothing. His mother suspected something, but she didn’t want to ask him about it because, like last time, she figured that he would tell her when he was good and ready. But she also felt anxious. Izuku could feel it, her anxiety and worry pouring off her and onto his skin like drops in the shower. Other than her, though, no one really took notice of him, and he wondered if he even really mattered in this world at all. Granted, he never talked with any of them, but if someone was doing something differently, something strange—after all, he wore these long sleeved shirts in the middle of summer—then he figured someone would ask _something._ But no, everyone carried on with their lives, and he was left wondering how much his life actually left impact on his surroundings. He began feeling as if he was an illness, as if he was contagious. He didn’t know why, he just knew he did and felt that he probably was. He began to wear a surgical mask everywhere, catching the eyes of many, but the concern of none.

Nearing the end of his summer cram school, Izuku was walking home a little late. He was so tired of the sidewalks being crowded because there was a commotion and “where are the heroes to help us?” He began to realize that this was all a game. Quirks, heroes, all of it. Heroes became heroes because they wanted to be recognized, not because they wanted to do a good deed. The common citizens wanted to see a show, and the heroes wanted to be praised. And Izuku? He was just tired of it all, tired of the charades, of their stupid games. He just wanted to live his life with his mother without thinking about Quirks or heroes or villains or _normal_ or _abnormal_. He just wanted to live.

So he began taking alternate routes. Of course, these alternate routes took a bit more time, but in exchange, there were rarely any altercations on them. Villains only ran amok where the population count was high—just further proving Izuku’s point that this was all a game to them, Heroes _and_ Villains—so they never went to the back streets unless they really were hard up for whatever. Drugs, sex, money, whatever. But so late at night and in well-lit areas, Izuku had nothing to worry about. The only problem was the one public street that he had to cross over to go home.

…and on that public street, _of course_ there was a villain there. And a fire. A really large fire.

“What happened here?”

“Oh, you don’t know. Well, one of those villains, Blaze or something, set one of the business offices on fire. We are just waiting for the heroes to come and help us.”

“What about the people inside?”

The bystander nodded to a man that was trying his best to create a path through the burning buildings using the objects around him. “Apparently that man already got three people out. A lot of people were trapped inside, so he’s been going in and out. I heard he’s a Quirkless. He should leave it to the heroes, they’ll be there to help us.”

At the person’s blind faith, Izuku bristled. Someone was risking their life to save people, and no one helped him? No one even tried to lift a finger? What, was the Heroes going to hold their hand as well? How could they be this selfish? How could they be this cruel? While the police and ambulance came, why couldn’t they help out that person?

Then, he remembered that he was one of those people. He often waited for All Might to come to the scene, just so he could witness his powers. Sometimes, if he was the first to witness a crime, he would wait on calling on the police _just_ so that way the heroes could arrive first. He played with people’s lives and trivialized it just like these people were doing. And yet he dared to criticize them without acting? What kind of a hypocrite was he? What kind of a human was he?

He started to run forward, ignoring the shouts of the person behind him, but he stopped himself. Finally, the heroes came. One put out the fire, while the rest brought out the trapped humans in one fell swoop. People cheered around him, and even the victims laughed as they were carried in their arms. After the fire was put out, people surrounded themselves with the heroes, and the man who initially tried to help out smiled before leaving.

But Izuku wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t be one of those people who became infatuated with heroes—who served for the glory and praise anyhow—and ignored those who really deserved the compliments. The man didn’t have to try and save his colleagues. But he did. And even if he was the only person who would thank him, he would still do it.

“Wait!” Izuku ran after him, a balding businessman with a plump body, as he walked away. Surprised, the man stopped and peered down at Izuku.

“What is it?”

“You saved those people. Even when you didn’t have to. And…you’re a Quirkless…” At that the man laughed.

“I get that a lot. Because I’m Quirkless, I can’t do anything, or ‘how could you save someone when you’re a Quirkless?’”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” Izuku corrected nervously. “I mean…thank you for saving those people. They’re your colleagues, right? You didn’t have to. Just like them,” Izuku glanced at the crowd that was to the left of them, “you could have watched and left, but instead you went back to help them…”

“Well, of course I did. And there’s no need to thank me, I just did the right thing, you know. I think that any respectable human should try to help their fellow man, you know? Oh, I have to go; my wife is going to hurt me if I come home late to dinner.”

He smiled at Izuku again, patted his head, and then left the vicinity. People were starting to clear out, but all Izuku could hear in his head was that “any respectable human should try to help their fellow man…” and all he could feel was the warmth in that stranger’s hand. Perhaps it was because he was in the fire for so long. But most likely, it was because that man had a warm heart. And that warmness touched Izuku greatly. He felt like he could do something, like all hope was not lost. And maybe he couldn’t become a hero. Maybe people wouldn’t like him. But as long as he actually helped his community, isn’t that what matters in the first place? Wouldn’t he still be a hero in his own right?

Let the Heroes hog the spotlight. Let them be the vanity seekers of this age. Let the people worship them. There will come a day that people will realize that Heroes aren’t actually as ‘heroic’ as they claim to be.

And Izuku will laugh on the day that comes to pass.

* * *

 

“Mom, I want to go to public junior high school again.” A few days from the beginning of his second year of junior high, Izuku announced this to his mother at the dining room table. Inko stopped everything that she was doing and stared at her son.

“Really?”

“Yep. I have an idea of what I want to do now, so I need to be with people. It makes no sense for me to be a police officer that doesn’t know how to communicate with others, does it?”

She laughed, highlighting another part of a paragraph before she stopped. “That’s great. You want to be a police officer?”

“Yeah. It’s the next best thing to becoming a hero. And police officers usually have to study a lot, right? I was thinking of becoming a police officer with a background in medicine and clinical treatment. I’m sure that Dr. Jackson would refer me to someone, or she’d take me under her wing, especially if I did really well in school. What do you think, mom?”

“I think you can do anything you put your mind to do, Izuku. And being a police officer is a very noble job. I’m glad that’s what you chose to do. But why not go into the military?”

“I wanted to stay as close as I could to you, mom. And in the military, I’m sure you’ll have to be assigned to a base, and I don’t want to do that.” She smiled, blushing a little bit. Her son was so considerate of her. Even when there was something obviously troubling him, he still thought about being with his mother. That thought touched her a bit, and she felt a ball of stress roll off of her shoulders.

“You can do whatever you want, honey. I’ll support you.”

In a week, Izuku enrolled into a public school again. He still wore his surgical mask every day, but no one minded it. They welcomed him with open arms into his class, and he made friends rather quickly. They made study groups, and many of the times, Izuku was the one to help them. The four of them quite easily became the top students of their class, and after the first semester, their grade. The problem with this was that Katsuki was also in this school, and when he caught wind of the fact that Izuku was back in school, he began to bully him again.

“Deku.”

Immediately, Izuku froze, his hand stilling on his backpack. Right in back of him was the voice that he had never wanted to hear again, the voice that still rang in his head at night, the hands that still burned his skin, the mouth that he remembered spitting in his face that day. He slowly turned around, his hands trembling. Just like the last time this happened, he stayed back so he wouldn’t have to see the heroes, and instead spent his time studying. No one was around for miles, and his classroom friends all left together an hour before. It was just him and Katsuki again.

He turned around, his hand trembling on the hilt of his backpack. “Kacchan…”

“Tch. You still haven’t gotten rid of that childish name you used to call me.” That was the only warning Izuku got before he jumped in front of him and grabbed at the front of his hair from the roots. Izuku cried out in pain as Katsuki pulled as hard as he possibly could.

“What the fuck are you doing here?! Didn’t I tell you to die already? I don’t ever want to see your face, I don’t want to—”

“I won’t get in your way,” Izuku interrupted nervously. “I’m here to live my life. I won’t be near you if you don’t want to, so please, please let me go.”

“Let you go? Hah. Since when have you gotten ballsy enough to tell me what to do? Huh? You get a pair of balls while you were cowering from society?” At that, Izuku glared at him, and Katsuki used his other hand to create tiny explosions from his hands, effectively creating fear in Izuku.

“That’s what I thought.” And just like every other time, Katsuki beat the crap out of Izuku. Again.

 But this time, Izuku resolved to stand up for himself. Katsuki may bully him, but he wouldn’t give up like he used to. He tried to talk to the teachers, tried to talk to the students, hell, he even tried to talk to his friends, but they didn’t listen to him, saying that he was always that aggressive, and that he was actually kind at heart. Which, Izuku couldn’t see it, he really couldn’t, but he let their words linger to the back of his mind. For a moment, for a brief moment, he felt something inside of him. It was a voice, a dainty, melodic voice, whispering for him to kill Katsuki. But Izuku shrugged it off. For one thing, he couldn’t kill him. This was Katsuki, the boy that he always admired, the boy that used to be his best friend. No matter how Katsuki treated him, he could never hate him, never. But for another thing, he was a Quirkless, and Katsuki was a human with a Quirk. There was no way for him to kill Katsuki without it being a suicide mission. He was too strong, too powerful, too amazing for Izuku to even lay a scratch on him.

The third year of junior high, the Goddess of Life, whoever she was, spat on his body and cursed him to high heavens. In his third year, Katsuki was in the same class as him. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do to survive this year. He tried sitting in the back, but the moment that the teacher called out his name, Katsuki’s eyes darted to where he sat, and he felt himself shrinking to an almost infinitesimal size. But his gaze didn’t linger long, and soon, his stare returned back onto the front of the room. Izuku wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he knew that he would have to run from Katsuki and hide every chance that he got. Strangely enough, though, for all his concern, Katsuki didn’t bother him at all. He glared at him, sure, but more than that, he left him alone. Near the ending of the year, he found out why.

“Kacchan is going to UA High?”

“Yeah,” one of his classmates said, biting on a rice cake. “They announced it on the day you were absent from class. He all but yelled it out. Out class was really rowdy for a while. But anyways, one of the criteria for getting into this school is to not only have three recommendations from any three of his teachers, but also three recommendations from his classmates. He’s been really nice because of that. Not that he wasn’t nice before, but you know…”

And he _did_ know. Katsuki hasn’t done anything to him in months. He just glared, but he pretty much left him alone for the most part. All of this time, it was a mystery to him, but now he knew why. And if he had his druthers, he probably was going to beat on Izuku if he ever saw him again. Hopefully after this year they wouldn’t see each other again. Hopefully.

That afternoon, he walked home from school feeling lighter than he ever had. He didn’t hate Katsuki, but he was so glad that he wouldn’t have to see him anymore. All of this time, he was bullied into silence, and last year, when he tried to tell someone something, they didn’t believe him. Worst yet, all of his complaining made the bullying worse. He resorted to just deal with it until it was over, and his patience finally wore off. As there were only fifteen days of school left before exams, after these next two weeks, he was free. Free from almost eight years of torture. Free from all of the heartache he went through. Free from the fear. Free from the hopes of things never to come.

When he was about half way home, he saw an incomplete construction site a few blocks away. The arm of the mobile crane was swaying lightly, but everyone disregarded it and walked right under. Hell, there was a girl selling flowers there for a few hundred yen. Izuku felt a sense of unease weasel its way in his chest, and he quickly made his way over to the construction site. He approached a younger man that was casually walking along the side of the broken gravel and the tangled metal bars.

“Isn’t this area dangerous? I see that that the mobile crane is swaying a bit. That’s not normal, right?”

He laughed. “You must not be from around this area. No, that swaying happens all the time. For some reason, that mobile crane is always unsteady, even if there is nothing on it and the air is calm. This construction site always gets built and rebuilt, so this is nothing new to us.”

“…oh…” Izuku had never heard of this before, but he took his word for it.

…or would have, had he not seen the metal bars that were stacked on top of the claw of the crane come tumbling down. His eyes widened, and he yelled out a warning.

“Get out of here!” The man that he spoke to looked up, and he screamed, which caused everyone around the area to scream. They all ran from away from the danger, leaving the one girl that was the closest under the crane to panic. People began to gather around the site, watching as the metal bars rained down on the earth, none of them hitting the girl—yet—and, as always, waiting for a hero to come.

But Izuku couldn’t wait for a hero to come. How long would they have to wait for a hero to show his face? How many casualties would there be while people were treating this as another game? Someone was about to die, and they wait for the heroes? No, this was the same as last time, in that fire. If he didn’t take action, no one else would. That girl would die before she even turned twenty. He ran towards the girl, his arm stretched out. He could feel his heartbeat in his chest, his blood turn cold. If only he were a bit faster…if only he were stronger…

_If only he had a quirk._

Izuku managed to make it in the nick of time, but there wasn’t enough time to run. In the time that they took two steps forward, they would be buried alive under bars and bars of iron. It was better for him to protect her, and at least give her the opportunity to get out alive. He was a dead issue, anyhow. He was quirkless, and although he could become a hero in his own right, there was only but so much that he could do. Without a quirk, without _something_ , he was useless. At least this girl had a quirk. He didn’t know how he knew, but he could sense it: she had the Quirk of artificially creating plants of all different types. She then used those plants to make money on the side. She had much, much more promise than he did.

He had to protect her.

His hands wrapped around her tightly, protecting her from the iron bars that descended around them. Izuku waited for the bars to bury him alive, but he felt nothing. When he looked up, all of the metal bars were floating in the air. Transparent hands caught each and every one of them, and held it firmly, almost crushing the bars in half. Izuku looked around for a hero, but there was none. He then figured that maybe the hero was invisible, just like the hands. But if that were the case, he should have been able to see an outline of him or her or something, right?

After five minutes, the bars crashed to the ground around them. People were starting to surround themselves around him, and he felt mildly uncomfortable. They told him that his quirk was cool, and that he was so amazing, but Izuku knew for sure that he was quirkless. The doctor told him so, Katsuki always bragged about it, and well…it never manifested before today.

But then those dozens of hands that were gripping the metal bars were suddenly at his side, and Izuku knew without a shadow of a doubt that yes, this was his quirk. In his haste to protect one innocent girl, he released his quirk, the quirk he thought he couldn’t have, right before his eyes. He could officially become a hero now. His dream of helping others and being side-by-side with All Might has never been closer.

But after everything that has happened in his life, he wasn’t willing to become a Hero anymore.

* * *

 

(End of Prologue. Izuku Midoriya, 14 years of age. Status: Unknown)


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When something is too good to be true, chances are, it most likely is. With Izuku's new quirk(s) come more complications, perhaps more than he asked for. And with his transition from junior high school to high school, his life is turning out to be more stressful than ever before. Again, Katsuki really doesn't help with this. If anything, he makes things much, much more painful.
> 
> (But looking on the bright side, at least his admission into his new school is successful.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (There was an error with the notes, so I deleted it. Hopefully it works.)
> 
> Okay. Thank you so so much for those of you who voted. It was kind of close between Katsu/Deku and Deku/Toga, but in the end, Deku/Toga won! So now I have a good idea of how I want this story to go. Now if only I can actually have time to finish planning...
> 
> Also! Cheers for Toga's first fifteen second appearance in the most recent episode! I was so psyched when I saw her. I wish I could see her more...(seeing her adorable face totally remotivated me to write Deku/Toga)
> 
> Warning: Non-con in chapter (This is the last chapter with this, so cheers!)

Four nights after the incident, Izuku told his mother what had happened to him.

They were sitting at the dinner table, just the two of them, his mother working on another paper, an orange highlighter in her hand and the tip of a yellow highlighter wedged snugly between her teeth. She breathed what seemed like the hundredth sigh of the night as she underlined yet another part of a paragraph, picked up the red pen that lied next to her unused chopsticks, and wrote a short note at the side of the paper. She looked stressed, and Midoriya honestly didn’t want to bother his mother when she was like this, but he knew that she had to know. She had to be the first to know.

“Mom, can I talk to you for a second?” Almost as if he had enchanted her, she dropped everything she was doing and gave her son her undivided attention. She pushed the paper she was correcting on the side and faced him with a gentle smile on her plump face.

“Yes, of course. What is it? Did something happen at school? Or—”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” he quickly interrupted, waving his hand, completely disregarding the idea. “It’s just. Do you remember a few years ago when we went to the doctor and to my neurologist and the doctor said that I didn’t have a quirk?”

“Yeah, I remember. Of course I remember, Izuku, it was a hard time for us both. Why, did something happen?”

“Yeah…” He fidgeted in his seat, unsure of how to tell her without it sounding absolutely ridiculous or strange that the doctor was, perhaps, mistaken and that he indeed had a quirk, perhaps was even born with it. He wanted to go back to the doctor to see if things were different, if maybe the machine was wrong, but he knew all too well how things like this went. When the doctor saw that he had a quirk despite his physical structure, in the doctor’s eyes, Izuku would shift from being a patient to being an experiment. Word would get around that the presence of quirks in humans aren’t necessarily marked by a certain skeletal structure, and scientists and doctors alike would want to run tests on him. He didn’t want to go through that, and he didn’t want his mother to, either.

“I uh. I have a quirk now. I found out yesterday.” At once, Inko shot up out of her seat, gripping Izuku’s hands. She looked so ecstatic to hear that her son had a quirk. She knew, just like he did, that he wanted to become a hero, but was always discouraged because of his Quirkless status. She knew the hurts he had gone through because of it—even if he never told her directly—and she knew that he was closer to his lifelong dream than ever before.

“That’s so wonderful, Izuku! What kind of quirk is it?”

He thought about those words. He wasn’t sure how to describe transparent hands to his mother, especially if she couldn’t see them. What, was he going to say, “Oh yeah, my quirk comes in the form of invisible hands that can crush things when I’m in danger. Isn’t that so cool? I can make about a dozen of them without thinking.” Yeah. That sounded strange even to him, and he was the one with this quirk. But seriously, out of all of the quirks that he knew heroes to have, he never heard of something like this. There were heroes that could turn their bodies invisible, heroes that could control gravity or control certain objects with psychokinesis, but he had never seen a hero with external hands—and so many at that—unleashed.

But as he was contemplating what to tell his mother, a word floated around in his head.

_Vectors._

“I can control vectors,” he told her. “They’re these hand-like projections from my body, made out of molecules moving at a certain pace. And…I think I’m a psychic or something. I can read people’s quirks just by meeting them.” The information came to him easily, as if someone was whispering the information into his ears, right into his brain. In a matter of minutes, he knew everything there was to know about his quirks, about their limits, and his weaknesses. Ironically enough, he was immune and protected from most projections and most forces—including brainwashing, as he was a psychic—but he was susceptible to heavy firearms, which is something that regular police officers occasionally use. He was weak against normal humans. How funny.

He was also weak against Katsuki if Katsuki made a strong enough explosion, but he tried not to think about that.

His mother squeezed his hands softly, meeting his gaze. “I’m so very happy for you, Izuku. How did you find out?”

Midoriya froze. He couldn’t possibly tell his mother that he almost died when it activated on him. She would be so worried, so _hurt_ …and then she would cry, and god, he made his mother cry too many times in his lifespan. She was definitely looking a little better these days, but she still had the wilted hair, the dark rings around her eyes, the weight gain…even when she was happy, she looked so pained. He couldn’t make her feel even worse by telling her what happened. He made a conscious decision to lie to her.

“I was in the library and I saw a girl about to be toppled by some books. I think she pulled one that was on top of the bookshelf and all of the rest came tumbling down. I was so worried, you know? So well…my body just moved without thinking and then my quirk activated. There were so many hands, mom. I didn’t even think it was my quirk until they all came at my side.”

She looked so astounded, but all the more pleased, and Midoriya felt a blanket of relief rest itself on his shoulders. He was glad that he didn’t have to demonstrate for her, that she believed him so easily.  

“You’re such a sweet and kind boy, Izuku, really…and I’m so glad you didn’t get hurt. If your quirk didn’t save you, then you might have gotten seriously injured. Do be careful; you’re the only son I have, and I don’t want to have to chase you in the afterlife because you did something heroic that took your life.”

“I’ll be careful.” Guilt was biting him a little, and he turned back to eat the rice and salmon that was long since cold, attempting to snuff those feelings out as best as he could. Between bites, he informed her, “I wanted you to be the first to know, mom. I also don’t want you to tell anyone else.”

She seemed surprised. “Oh why? You don’t even have to go to the doctor if you don’t want to; I’ll directly tell the school myself, and if you want, you can apply for UA High to become a hero. Now that your quirk activated, isn’t that what you’re going to do?”

“…No. I…I really don’t want to be a hero anymore, mom. I’ll still research heroes, but I still want to be a police officer. I was thinking a lot lately and…” _I realized how selfish heroes are_ , Izuku finished bitterly.

“…and I was thinking that perhaps being a hero isn’t the best option for me. I want to stay close by your side, and I won’t be able to do that if I have to fly to Hokkaido or some other part of the other side of Japan because of some crime that happened that needs the attention of all of the heroes in the country. Besides, I think that an undercover Quirk as a cop would be so much more useful to the police force than a hero. Any villains that attack will have their guard down because they won’t be expecting a cop with an offensive quirk.”

She laughed at Izuku’s enthusiasm. “Well, if that’s truly what you want to do, then I will support you. But if you ever change your mind, we can test you onto a hero-track at any time during your high school career. Do you still want to have a background in medicine?”

“Yeah. Actually. Look at this.” He rustled around in his pockets, searching for the folded sheet of paper that his cram school teacher gave to him after class.

When he finally found it, he handed it to Inko.

“Shinohara-sensei recommended me to go to this school. He said that it was a perfect fit for me. What do you think, mom?”

She unfolded the paper, reading the letters on the sheet twice before gasping.

“Shizuoka Preparatory School for the Gifted and Talented*?  Izuku, this is amazing! This is one of the schools that have the most successful applicants to the most prestigious colleges in the nation! He referred you here? Oh, my baby! I’m so proud of you!” She gave him a hug, and he returned it, glad that his mother approved of his—and his teacher’s—decision.

Even before his teacher recommended it to him, Izuku was interested in FPSGT because of their unusual yearly syllabus. While most high schools concentrated on the basic social sciences, politics, health, mathematics, and foreign studies needed as a co-requisite for the National Entrance Exam, Shizuoka Prep assumed that the matriculated student already knows either half or all of this information—which, he does; he’s still three years ahead of his peers—and instead focuses on advanced studies, personal preparation for the National Entrance Exam, and a concentration in his or her future major. It was a very small and elite school, aimed at students that skipped a certain amount of grades, and absolutely perfect for his needs.

But well. It wasn’t as if it didn’t come with a price. After all, Midoriya had no one else to share this information with except for his mother.

“If you approve of it, then that’s all that matters.” Izuku smiled. “I’ll tell him Monday when I go to cram school.”

He finished his food, ran his tongue along the bottom part of his lip, muttered a rushed “thank you for the food”, and after putting his plates together, ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Now that he had a good idea of what his quirk was like, he just _had_ to write it all down before he forgot. He had to start planning in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he could be useful to the people around him, just like he always wanted to be.

* * *

 

  _He felt a pull on his chest, and sleepily, he opened his eyes._

 _Surrounding him was a thick fog of darkness. He leaned up, staring at his room, his desk, his computer. Everything was monotonous, and all of the All Might posters that his walls were usually baptized in were strangely absent. He realized with a sudden moment of clarity that he was in some sort of subspace: he was in his room yet he was not, and the fact that he was in the same clothes that he went to bed in didn’t comfort him much, either. Izuku stood up, cautiously stepping forward once, twice, and then kept walking in a straight line. He couldn’t get a feel for this place_ at all _, and he wondered in the back of his mind if this was all a dream._

_“It’s not a dream,” a melodic voice spoke. Izuku recognized this voice; it was the same one that he heard when he was still getting bullied by Katsuki. He heard it only once, but it was something that he could never forget. “I brought you here, Midoriya Izuku.”_

_Standing in front of him was a young girl with coral-tinted hair that barely passed her shoulders, one visible green eye that peered at him—the color was almost identical to his, actually—with bandages for clothing, and silver horns implanted onto the top of her head. She was several feet shorter than him, but somehow, Izuku felt horribly intimidated, as if he were in the face of a cold-blooded killer. He shivered slightly, taking a step back. She took a step forward._

_“Why did you bring me here?” She cocked her head to the side, measuring him with her eye._

_“Why shouldn’t I bring you here? This is your conscious, Midoriya Izuku. Where would you be if not here?”_

_“My conscious?”_

_“Yes. This is your conscious. Have you not noticed me all of this time? Despite talking to you just this afternoon?” He tried to think back as to when she was talking about, but his mind provided him no clues. But then he thought about the time with his mother, how the abilities of his quirk came to him naturally, how everything just clicked unnaturally, and how, even when he was feverishly planning that night, he was able to make an almost flawless work-around for his weakness._

_“That was you?”_

_She smiled, but the action seemed more of a grimace than a genuine smile, almost as if her mind and her muscles couldn’t quite connect properly. “That was me.”_

_He thanked her, relaxing a bit, even though in the back of his mind he felt something akin to fear stabbing him in his throat. “What’s your name?”_

_“I haven’t had one. Not now, not ever. I’m simply a part of your consciousness, Midoriya Izuku. I have no need for something so superfluous such as a name.” She stepped closer to him again, and this time, he didn’t step back. He blinked down at her, and getting a closer look at her, thought her to be rather pretty. He wondered how in the world she could be a part of his consciousness when she bared no resemblance to him and held no connection to him._

_“Can I call you Kaede**? If you don’t have a name, I mean.” Her gaze lowered, and she looked as if she wanted to laugh in bitter irony, but instead grimaced again._

_“If that is what you wish.” She stepped closer again, forcing Izuku to stumble back on his monotonous bed and stare directly into her eye. She cocked her head as she continued to stare at him. “Why are you not afraid? Why do you not run and curse me?”_

_“I don’t see why I should. You’ve done nothing wrong to me. And you’re supposedly a part of me, right? Then that’s even more a reason to embrace you.” She was silent. And then her eye lightened in understanding._

_“You don’t believe me.”_

_“It’s not that I don’t, it’s just…” He sighed. He wasn’t sure how to explain that consciousness just didn’t work like this, unless he was suffering from Split-Personality Disorder or the like, and he was certain that he had no such illness. He may be depressed, but he wasn’t mentally ill. He was just lonely. Desolate. Isolated. But not mentally ill. Not to mention his very existence inside of his consciousness. He never heard of this happening, and quite frankly, he was slightly skeptical. Perhaps he was in a dream, and he consciously knew it. That sounded much more plausible than physically being in his own conscious._

_She mirrored his sigh, reading all of his thoughts and concerns that bounced around in his head. “I’m not a split personality, but I’m a part of you. You should know by now that you aren’t normal, Midoriya Izuku. You weren’t normal from your birth. You were supposed to be ‘Quirkless’. Statistics state that a body structure such as yours indicate that you will, almost definitely, be ‘Quirkless’. Yet you are not. You have two of these so-called ‘quirks’, quite the opposite of normal, yes? That’s because you aren’t human. You’re a Diclonius. You’re different from a regular human. You’re smarter. Stronger. Superior in almost every way.”_

_Midoriya wasn’t quite sure of the difference between a regular human and a Diclonius, and her vague attributes—which sounded more like boasting if he were perfectly honest—of a Diclonius didn’t help much either. But he could gather that he was different. Though…not being human. That was something he couldn’t swallow so easily. He decided not to fight her on it, though. He had no idea if Kaede was really a part of him or not, and if she was, what her intentions were. Considering that she suggested not too long ago that he should kill Katsuki, though, he had a faint idea of her intentions might be already…_

_“Okay. Let’s say I believe you. What do you want me to do about it?”_

_She scrunched up her shoulders slightly, a poor imitation of a shrug. “Nothing. Not now, anyhow. But helping out humans…is that something you really want to do? I see that you want to be a ‘hero’. Is that_ really _for the best when everyone has done nothing but discourage you?”_

_“As long as I help people, that’s what really matters,” Izuku replied calmly. “You can’t dissuade me from that.”_

_She frowned, expecting that answer but displeased anyways. “Is that really what you want, though? Is it not fair that heroes, people who help others for the sake of the taste of praise, take the spotlight which was rightfully yours? When you save another’s life and yet that person thanks the hero that shows up afterward, will you not become bitter and spiteful?”_

_“I won’t. I already decided I wouldn’t.”_

_“Oh, but I know you, Izuku.” She towered over him, staring down at him, her fingers slowly reaching for his face, for his cheeks, her eye widening with some sort of emotion that Izuku couldn’t place. “You’re trying so hard to be noble because you think it’s the right thing to do, but you’re bitter. So, so bitter…but I can make it better. Let me have their souls. You and I know that this is best for society: to rid themselves of such vain figures.”_

_At once, he pushed her away from him, feeling a wave of sudden dread and anger simultaneously, both at himself and at her. Had he been a lesser man, he may have succumbed to his desire to see all of the heroes destroyed, including All Might, perhaps especially All Might. And he knew that he was strong enough for it, too. Japan had never heard of Diclonius’. They never taught it in school, and with the amount of off-site studying Izuku did, he would have saw it somewhere. He was at an advantage. He knew all about heroes, but they knew nothing of him and his weakness, not to mention that he studied them day in and day out. He knew them like the back of his hand, but they didn’t know about him at all. Hell, they didn’t even know he had a quirk. He would be the ultimate villain, the one that could possibly change the world. But he didn’t want to kill anyone._

_All he wanted was for everyone to be treated equally, fairly, justly. He wanted heroes and Quirkless and normals to all work together to make the world a better place. He wouldn’t side with the heroes, wouldn’t help them, not after the life he had, but he sure as hell wouldn’t kill them, either. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. That was too cruel, and really, their vanity didn’t warrant their death._

_“I won’t do it.” He pointedly stared at her, daring at her to say something to the contrary. “I know that if I let you kill one, you’ll kill them all. And then it won’t be just them. It’ll be anyone you don’t like. I won’t be that murderer you want me to be, Kaede. I’m sorry.”_

* * *

“I’m sorry.”

As Midoriya woke up, he heard his apology to Kaede in the air, as if he spoke it aloud in his sleep. After a while, he took a deep breath and simply laid in his bed. Staring a long time at his worn ceiling in his room, he gazed at the old, peeling ivory paint and the fan that was attached to the wall. It was moving slowly, rotating around at a snail’s pace, barely blowing any air on him at all. He glanced around and saw that the posters that were not in his room in that very ( _strange dream_ ) peculiar place were, in fact, there. He stared at all of the pictures of All Might that he collected three years ago, as well as the giant poster of all of the pro-heroes that stretched itself from his door to his window. The monitor of his computer was flickering on and off, undecided if it was going to stay asleep or if it was going to shut off entirely. Other than that, everything was in place. Everything was normal.

He stood up, stretching a bit before checking the time. It was barely five in the morning, and he could have gotten more sleep, but he was too frazzled to try, and he decided to get ready for school instead. He had a lot to do today, not to mention that he still had to study for the entrance exam into Shizuoka Prep. He has been so busy simply trying to stay ahead that he hasn’t studied for the exam at all. He was most likely going to be just fine—hopefully—but he didn’t want to take any chances.

Izuku sat at his desk, moving his keyboard to the side and instead placed a folded envelope in front of him. Ripping off the envelope sealing, he grabbed a pen and began to fill the application out. When it came time for the essay questions of “Why do you think that you’re best suited for Shizuoka Preparatory School for the Gifted and Talented?” and “What is something that you would like to gain by attending this school?” he left them blank. He found himself restless, not quite able to relax after what had happened after what felt like seconds ago. He instead decided to take a shower to get his mind off of everything.

After, he went to school, but he was listless, still thinking about what happened last night. His classmates talked to him, but he really wasn’t paying them any mind. He smiled and laughed at all the right moments—not that they could see it, so what was the point, really—but he otherwise kept to himself.

Who was she, really? Was she really a part of him? He never met her before, never heard her voice before last year. Perhaps she developed because of his depression? Perhaps he really did have another personality in his mind?

No. That wasn’t true. Perhaps she was there all of his life, but because of his vulnerability, her influence became strong enough that she could pull him into his own mind at her will. Perhaps it was because he was always depressed, always wanting something more—companionship, maybe—and never receiving it that she arose from his mind, from not the human side, but the Diclonius part of him. The inhumane part of him.

For some reason, that thought scared him more than anything else. If she was his inhumanity, if she was, perhaps, his instincts as a Diclonius, that meant that as long as he was alive, there was more than a possibility that he could become a murderer like she wanted him to be. (And for what? Because life wasn’t fair, and he was mistreated? Was that why she wanted him to kill the heroes? Was that really it? Was a life that saved hundreds, no matter what the reason, only worth so much as a small grudge?)

He didn’t want that.

After cram school—after happily informing Shinohara that he wanted to attend Shizuoka Prep and was already almost done with the application—he trudged home, not really paying attention where he was going. There were so many things on his mind that he really couldn’t concentrate on avoiding the heroes. And at any rate, he would most likely confront with them no matter what. Even if he took his usual trail, there was still a possibility that he would meet a commotion when he crossed the main street. Just like the last time.

As he was nearing the main street, he saw a commotion on the side. People were hushed, staring at something that seemed to be happening on the side, where the small shopping centre was. When he felt the tension that came from over there, curiosity plagued him, and his feet walked him over to the scene. He felt the wave of déjà vu smack him in the face as he turned to a business man next to him, asking, “What happened here?”

Without even looking at him, the man whispered, “Oh, it’s so terrible. Someone’s in danger and there’s no heroes around to save him. The poor kid has been fighting against the villain for what seems like forever. His quirk is amazing, but he’s still no match for a villain like this one. It’s trying to suffocate the life out of the poor kid. Horrible, really.”

Curiosity further biting him, he pushed his way through the wall of people that watched the scene, fear gripping their shoes and holding them in place, yet concern gripping their hearts, making them unable to turn away. Izuku finally got to the front of the wall, and what he saw astounded him.

He couldn’t tell what villain it was, but it was made of pure liquid. It was the color of sickly sludge, a dark green with bits of grey in it. Stepping closer, he stared hard at the person captured, and when he recognized who it was, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Katsuki was there, fighting for his life, creating explosions every so often, clawing his way out, unable to break free but just holding on. He would make three or so explosions, scratch outwards at a vertical angle, but when he got even a slither of fresh air, the villain would overtake him, swallowing him whole again. He watched as Katsuki’s eyes began to tear, as he began to become frustrated by his futile efforts, as he began to slip, to give up. At that moment, Izuku felt his heart crack, just a bit. He jerked forward, though to do what, he was unsure of. Did he want to save him? Or did he want to turn around and leave, to leave Katsuki to die?

Leave Katsuki to _die?_

 _He was the one that molested you_ , Kaede hissed in the back of his head, speaking up as soon as he became indecisive. He harshly flinched at her voice, remembering last night, but otherwise remained still, still unsure of what he should do. _He bullied you, molested you, and humiliated you. He got off on your pain, spat in your face when you were down on the ground, and left you there in his filth and your own blood; do you_ truly _wish to save a child like him?_

She was right, and he knew it. It was so humiliating when Katsuki did that to him. He hated himself even more than before because of Katsuki’s cruelty. He was disgusting, and then Katsuki made him even _dirtier_ , made him even less than a human, which, _hah_ , he wasn’t anyhow, or so Kaede tells him, which he still finds hard to believe. But on the other hand, he also knew that he would become a murderer if he left Katsuki to die. He wouldn’t have killed Katsuki physically, but his blood would be on Izuku’s hands. He had the power to save him, and yet he would not because of a personal grudge.

Would a hero do that? Hell, would any respectable human do that?

He darted forward, ignoring the yells and screams of the bystanders behind him. If there wasn’t a hero to save him, then he would do it. And he knew that Kaede would probably torture him later for this—she seemed the type to be horrendously vindictive when she didn’t get her way—but he knew that he would regret it if he didn’t save him. And although Katsuki’s personality was the farthest type from the typical hero—he could practically be an anti-hero with how belligerent and diabolical he was—he still wanted to help people. He still idolized All Might, just like Izuku.

He felt ten of his vectors all clutch the sludge simultaneously, but in no more than a second later did they phase right through. Midoriya grunted as he quickly slid off one strap of his backpack from him shoulder and threw his backpack at the villain, giving Katsuki a moment to breathe as he dug and dug and dug. He frantically began to think of a plan to get Katsuki out of this sludge, and then _just like that_ , he remembered that he could adjust the velocity on his vectors. He pulled on Katsuki’s hand as hard as he could, but the villain’s amorphous body extended out to Izuku and all but flung him away. He gasped as he hit the floor with a hard smack, but he got right back up and charged at the villain, with the faint hope of at least _getting Katsuki out there_. He could feel his vectors at his side, but they were useless. They kept phasing through the sludge, and Izuku became even more anxious as he realized that he couldn’t control his power at all, that most likely, Kaede was doing the majority of the work for him. But he couldn’t give up. He already decided that he was going to save Katsuki no matter what the cost, and if Kaede didn’t help him because she hated Katsuki, then so be it. He would hold out, just like he did before, until a true hero came to save them.

As if the gods in heaven listened to his wish, he felt All Might rush behind him, assisting Izuku. At that moment, All Might came rushing to the scene, his breath labored, as if he ran a mile. He charged towards the villain with a punch, completely disabling the villain in an instant and freeing Katsuki. Cheers were heard everywhere as All Might congratulated Katsuki for hanging on for so long, checking him over for any external injuries or worse, inhaling some of the villain’s essence. When Izuku saw that he was no longer needed—

— _no longer wanted, not like he ever was_ —

He quickly extricated himself from the scene. Now that Shinohara gave him a recommendation letter for Shizuoka Prep, he had to finish the application so he could send it out as soon as he could. As it was, he was cutting it extremely close. There were only a few days left of school left, and there were hundreds of applicants that already gave in their application form. He was at a disadvantage time-wise, but his grades were perfect. Flawless. It was really the only thing that Izuku could be proud of, and it’s the only thing that worked in his favor.

As he turned into a back alley, he heard a raspy voice call out for him.

“Hey.” Turning around, Izuku looked to see who it was.

“Kacchan…” He sneered, but didn’t react to his nickname. His hands were in his pockets, and he was regarding Izuku with a certain emotion in his eyes, a certain expression on his face. It didn’t suit him at all.

“What the fuck was that just now.”

“What was what?”

“You know exactly what,” the blond snapped, losing the little patience he had left. He charged up to Midoriya and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “What the hell was that back there?! Did I ask you to help me?! Did I ask you to save me? Huh?! Well, did I, _Deku_?”

Izuku swallowed, trying his best not to be frightened but failing miserably. “No…”

“That’s right, you fuckface. I didn’t ask for your help. And yet, there you were, with your _Quirkless_ self, digging me out like _your_ life depended on it. What the hell is wrong with you? I know you’re stupid, but I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to pull a stunt like that.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Midoriya cried out. “My body moved on its own! I couldn’t just watch you die before my eyes!”

But that was the wrong answer. Katsuki suddenly released him, causing Izuku to stumble on the uneven concrete and fall to the floor. And as soon as he did, Katsuki picked up his left foot and stomped on Izuku’s stomach as hard as he could, causing him to gasp breathlessly. He curled on himself on the dirty floor, right next to the garbage bags that leaked some sort of yellow substance. He tried to keep in his sobs, but they poured out of him. And Katsuki took pleasure in it. He always did.

“Well, you tried to save me. You, a useless piece of trash, tried to save me. I’m going to let you know _exactly_ how I feel about that.”

He beat him up, kicked his face with the bottom of his dirty sneakers, and grinded the dirt into Izuku’s skin, almost as if he wanted to further demonstrate that Izuku himself was nothing more than trash, nothing more than dirt. And when Midoriya was dirty enough, was bloody enough, he grinded the heel of his sneaker on Izuku’s crotch, taking sadistic pleasure from hearing Midoriya’s agony. But Midoriya did nothing to fight back, only curling in on himself in even more. Of course, this made Katsuki even more desperate to hear Izuku’s cries, his pleas for mercy like he used to, because to him, those cries were sweeter than music; it made him feel powerful, dominant, superior, and he thrived off of that feeling. But Izuku didn’t say a word; he took it all in like he always did.

And when Katsuki unzipped his pants like he did the last time, Izuku tightened himself, but said nothing. He simply sat there, waiting for Katsuki to hurry up and finish rutting in his hair, wait, no, now his arm, so that he could just go home and take a shower and scrub himself raw. It made no sense to fight back. He had a quirk now; he was just like Katsuki now, but he had no idea on how to control it, and he was worried that if he made a mistake, that he might accidently kill Katsuki. And although he really, really dislikes him right now—after all, he _did_ just attempt to save his life, and he hasn’t even uttered a single word of gratitude—he _still_ doesn’t want him to die. How disgusting was that? How disgusting was he? Maybe he liked this sort of thing. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t getting angry.

“Next time you think of doing something so stupid like that, just remember this moment.”

He released himself all over Izuku’s arm, pushing his body further to get it into his eye, just so he could hear Midoriya’s groans of pain. But Midoriya knew Katsuki all too well, and he closed his eyes just in time. A moment later, he felt Katsuki’s weight lift off of him, and he wiped his face to see if Katsuki was still there, but he was gone. Instead, there was a blond girl in a high school uniform that was staring at him from across the street, transfixed on him, his bleeding body, and his swollen leg. She left before he could feel embarrassed, but he wondered if she saw everything that happened. For his sake, he really hoped not.

Struggling to get up, Izuku collapsed on himself several times, not having the strength to get up. He used all of his adrenaline on simply saving Katsuki, and it turned out to be futile since his quirk couldn’t come in handy and All Might had to save them both. He felt frustrated, but at the very least, he was happy that he at least _tried_ to save his former best friend. He stumbled out of the alleyway and slid into a public bathroom, ignoring the stares of the men that watched him and his semen-soaked hair. After rinsing his hair twice, he stumbled out of the bathroom and made his way onto the main street, where he originally was going to cross before he helped out Katsuki. He felt like he was going to faint at any moment, but something kept him going. He had a suspicion he knew what it was.

When he arrived home, his mother was sitting at the dining room table, reading over papers like she always did. He decided that he would greet her after he took a shower and attempted to rip the additional filth that Katsuki gave him. As he scrubbed and scrubbed his arm, he heard Kaede’s voice linger in his mind.

_Was it still worth it? Saving him? Had you left him, he wouldn’t have defiled you once more. This is all the more reason why you should have listened to me, Midoriya Izuku._

Unlike the last time, he didn’t have an answer for her this time around. He really tried not to feel bitter, he really did. But in all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be so nice to Katsuki the next time he saw him, and for some reason, that worried him more than even the events that happened that afternoon.

 Because as long as he was kind to Katsuki, there would always be a chance that he would find it in his heart to forgive him.

* * *

 

After that, Izuku didn’t really run into Katsuki, especially since Katsuki was preparing to go to a completely different high school: UA High, the school that Izuku, prior these last five years, always dreamed of attending. For the remaining four days of school, he focused on the volunteering jig that his cram teacher so graciously provided him, and any free time was used to study for the exam. He didn’t really have friends to hang out, not really—courtesy of Katsuki, of course—and his mother was relatively busy with her own work, and he didn’t want to bother her. He tried to think of it as something that he was doing because he wanted to get the best possible grade, but really, he had no other choice _but_ to study. After his life of isolation—again, courtesy of Katsuki—it was all he knew. He didn’t know how to interact with people outside of a classroom setting. He didn’t know how to initiate a “play date” or a “hang out”. He didn’t even know how to have a proper conversation with someone outside of school. He could only talk about science, or what the ethos and logos of their last assigned story was, or the political advantages of heroes. Things like games, movies, and idols…they were all topics that he was conscious of, but he didn’t know about them well enough to talk about them. He was always too busy trying to avoid his depression by studying, trying to avoid the friends he lost because Katsuki threatened them all, trying to avoid Katsuki himself. And now that he was entering high school, he was hypothetically supposed to be relaxing, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. But thanks to his social incompetence, his entrance exam went fairly well.

Two days before his first day of Shizuoka Prep, his mother asked him how the test went.

“Well, it went as well as it could have, considering I studied every day. I have to prepare an opening speech, apparently,” he informed her. “I’m really nervous about speaking in public, mom…I tried asking them if I could perhaps decline, but they wouldn’t let me.”

She laughed as she highlighted a paragraph of yet another paper that she was editing. “Of course not, Izuku! You scored the highest out of all of the students that applied and was accepted in. You’re now the model student of Shizuoka Prep, which is amazing, by the way. I’m so very proud of you.”

He smiled nervously, feeling his face heat up just a tad. “I’m glad you’re happy about this, mom. Will…will you be there?”

“What, do you think I’m too busy to skip my own son’s induction ceremony?” She scoffed. “Of course I’ll come! I already have it on my calendar. And then, for dinner, we can have your favorite to celebrate. It would be a nice ending to a nice day.”

And like she said, it really was a nice day. His speech went fairly well, and after the ceremony, he got the chance to speak to a few of the students there, which was his sorry attempt to make friends. Still, they were fairly cordial, even though he wore his mask like he always did (probably because he was the model student, but he really didn’t want to think about that), and his conversations with them ended off on a pleasant note.

But the entire time, he had felt someone staring at him. And when he had looked, it had turned out to be that blond girl that saw him in the alley a few months ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And these two chapters mark the ending of the non-con tag, and any BL interactions between Katsuki and Izuku. Rejoice, because I sure as hell am (at least about the non-con, this last one was a hellava painful, even though I tried to be even more brief than the last one).
> 
> *Shizuoka Prep. Okay, so I did a little research on the scholastic structure of Japan, so I know when grades are supposed to start up and the higher education system of Japan. Buuut I didn't research whether or not Japan has 'specialized schools' for 'the gifted and talented' for true. I mean, I've certainly seen in anime where there are specialized classes (like Special A), but I am not sure if that's actually real in Japan or if they just have advanced classes. I have a feeling that schools for the gifted and talented are a purely European/Western trait, so if you know more than I do about that, please take this with a grain of salt. 
> 
> **Kaede...okaaay. So here's the thing. Kaede is technically NOT an OC character, although she is certainly OOC, and will continue to be OOC. (I promise this isn't my way of trying to sneak a OC under the radar.) I know that some of you who are hardcore Elfen Lied fans will have a problem with this (and may even drop this story because of her alone), and for this, I profusely apologize. But for everyone else, let me explain. Kaede is Lucy's (the main character in Elfen Lied) real name. The reason why I named "The Voice" Kaede was because in the anime, The Voice is most associated (in my opinion) with Lucy, especially since Lucy was very mentally unstable, and even resembled her heavily in Lucy's mind (although they all look alike, so this can be argued). She was also what made Lucy temporarily lose her mind when she was younger. (Also, Kaede means 'maple', which is a tree with a reddish color. That's why Izuku named her that.)
> 
> As for why I introduced her so early in the story despite "The Voice" being a breaking point, it's because of this: Izuku is always depressed. And because of Katsuki, he will continue to be depressed, not to mention that he has no real friends, and as a result, is always insecure. Because of this, Izuku will always feel mentally and emotionally vulnerable and at his breaking point. It's because of this that Kaede was able to talk to him, even as early as his second year of junior high. Her influence only became greater because Izuku's abilities as a Diclonius activated. What will be the biggest problem in the future is that Kaede will always have a high level of influence on not only his powers, but on his sanity and his morality. I'm sure you see where there could be a problem.
> 
> And now you have officially reached the ending of this chapter! If you have gotten this far, then thank you for reading! Please, if you flame me, all I ask is that you add some constructive criticism so I have something to work with. ^^


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